


Lanificus Orsa

by Sineluce_Velius_Tristitia



Series: Lanificus Orsa [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, the usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 08:53:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4619217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sineluce_Velius_Tristitia/pseuds/Sineluce_Velius_Tristitia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry shook his head, not at all bothered, “No, no, it’s fine Headmaster. I didn’t really try remembering any more. I might as well enjoy what I have at the present than to think of the past or worry about the future.”<br/>“I could not have said better,” Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling, “Wise words for someone so young.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lanificus Orsa

**Author's Note:**

> And may I present the Sequel of Vissi Aldrei:  
> Lanificus Orsa!  
> I recommend reading Vissi first, but whatever takes your fancy I guess.  
> I got too lazy to publish this here... ffn goes first to me, I guess.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

**_Hurry up and wait_ **  
**_So close, but so far away_ **  
**_Everything that you've always dreamed of_ **  
**_Close enough for you to taste_ **  
**_But you just can't touch_ **

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

The scent of salt water assaulted his nose as his emerald gazed into the vastness of the sea. Distant noises of civilization never reached his ears.

Well, how can he when he’s just so far away?

So far that he barely sees anything that wasn’t green, blue, or white. So far that his only companions were the occasional animals that end up on the grounds, or the regular visits _he_ made. It wasn’t that bad, really, but the _before_ kept coming back at him. Maybe it was the distance? The distance that was deeper and further out of his reach.

It was long, far, whatever it is. It just wasn’t with him anymore. And he was happy, wasn’t he? He had changed everything, didn’t he?

With a sigh, he pulled his gaze away and took a step back from where he was standing at the edge of a cliff.

How strange it was that despite being high up, he can never feel the wind? He didn’t know if it only applied to where he was now.

“Harry?”

He didn’t jump or gave any indication that he was surprised. Turning around, a small smile curled at his mouth, deep emerald eyes that held more darkness than normal lightened.

“Hello Tom.”

The newly named person opened his hand in invitation that Harry accepted. A strong arm snaked around his waist and held him close. He breathed in Tom’s scent, engraving it in his senses, knowing that the other was doing just the same. He let it wash over him, made it as something to bury his memories deeper. It was now Harry and Tom, Tom and Harry. But Tom is still Voldemort, yet Voldemort is not _his_ Voldemort. That was something he would not allow, but will still accept if it did.

Not moving from his position, Harry pulled away just enough for him to speak, “How did your meeting with the Headmaster go?”

There was a brief flash of anger in the brown-red orbs before calming, “He said I wasn’t qualified enough, as young as I am.”

Harry embraced him tighter in a comforting gesture that was received by a smile.

They stood there together for a while in each other’s arms. Harry, knowing how much it really affected his friend, his partner, his _something_ —lover seemed so demeaning to whatever it is they have—didn’t let go, and Tom, for all that he is cruel and coldhearted to others, lets himself be free and raw to Harry, and both knew it.

It was forever and yet a moment that they finally moved and broke the comfortable silence.

Harry raised an eyebrow, “You know he is already old and senile, correct?”

Tom smirked, “Of course. I was the one who taught you to put those words in the same sentence as Dumbledore.”

Harry nodded and pulled him, “I know, just checking.”

Tom’s smirk widened as he let Harry pull him through the woods and into their home.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

****_You wanna show the world, but no one knows your name yet_  
Wonder when and where and how you're gonna make it  
You know you can if you get the chance 

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

“Good morning Headmaster.”

Harry sent a timid smile at the old wizard as he was gestured to sit down.

“Ah, Mr. Harrison, good morning to you as well.”

Harry maintained his smile as Dumbledore sat down, offering a lemon drop which he declined with a shake of his head.

Dumbledore clasped his fingers in front of him, “Now, may I ask why you are here, my boy?”

“Of course,” Harry shifted and handed his papers to the older wizard, “I would like to apply for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. I heard from Tom that the position was open and I said, why not.”

Being a former Hufflepuff, nothing could be said against him. Add to that his top marks in his N.E.W.T.s in DADA; Dumbledore’s suspicion of Tom was the only thing that could prevent him from having the position. He figured that he might as well have something to do, to take his mind off of things. A year in solitude was fine, but his mind was going to dangerous waters again—every year was a year closer to what once was.

Harry idly watched the older wizard scan through the papers, keeping alert to his surroundings. Every sound was making him feel jumpy, but forced himself to relax, when Fawkes landed on the arm of his chair.

He sent a bland smile to the phoenix and petted its feathers, “Hello Fawkes.”

A soft thrill was the response he got. Looking up, he noticed Dumbledore looking at them with twinkling blue eyes. Harry raised an eyebrow in question but still continued his ministrations with the phoenix.

Dumbledore shook his head with a smile, “Everything seems to be in order, my boy.” The older wizard snapped his fingers and the papers disappeared, leaving Harry blinking.

“Pardon, sir?”

Dumbledore gave that knowing smile, “Welcome to Hogwarts, Professor Harrison.”

Harry gave a weak grin, “Thank you, sir.”

“Although,” Dumbledore stroked his beard, “I have a question, questions, really. You wouldn’t mind satisfying an old Professor’s curiosity, would you?”

Harry tilted his head, eyes narrowing a fraction but not enough to be noticed, “Of course not, sir.”

“Ah, thank you. Tea?” At Harry’s nod, Dumbledore snapped his fingers and a cup of tea appeared on the table in front of him, “Now, I was wondering, after two years, why do you still not have a last name?”

Harry smiled, already knowing his answer, “I do not feel it is right to have one if I still do not have my complete memories.”

This seemed to surprise Dumbledore, “You haven’t? Ah, I apologize, my boy, that was quite rude of me.”

Harry shook his head, not at all bothered, “No, no, it’s fine Headmaster. I didn’t really try remembering any more. I might as well enjoy what I have at the present than to think of the past or worry about the future.”

“I could not have said better,” Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling, “Wise words for someone so young.”

Harry quickly hid the initial response of grimacing, opting instead to grin, “I read it somewhere in a muggle book.”

Well, that was a lie.

“Ah,” Dumbledore had that knowing look that Harry, despite not having anything against the wizard aside from whatever the fool said about Tom, wanted to scrub away with a rock, “Muggles, fascinating, aren’t they? But, my boy, what about your… friend?”

Harry repressed the urge to glower, but a twitch still made its way to his eye, “Tom is fine with whatever I do; in fact, he encourages it.” _As do I with whatever it is he does._

Dumbledore frowned, “I… see.”

Harry let the silence stretch out, redirecting his attention to the phoenix that was now perched on his shoulders and thrilling happily.

Dumbledore, seeming to be uncomfortable with the silence, finally broke it, “I see, well, my boy, don’t let me hold you any more longer than necessary. Again, Welcome to Hogwarts.”

Harry nodded with a polite smile, letting Fawkes fly back to his perch before standing up, “Thank you again, sir.”

Dumbledore chuckled, “Call me Albus, my boy.”

Harry simply nodded once more and quietly exited the office.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

****_In your face as the door keeps slamming_  
Now you're feeling more and more frustrated  
And you're getting all kind of impatient waiting 

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

“Harry.”

“Yes Tom?”

“Where were you?”

Harry just blinked but batted the hand that was blocking the door away and slipped inside. Tom closed the door and Harry walked in, finally stopping in the kitchen. He pulled out some ingredients, not at all bothered by the stare he was receiving. Now where was the flour…

“Well?”

Harry let out a triumphant sound and pulled out a bag of flour from a cupboard. He set it down with the rest of the ingredients and set to work.

“Harry.”

Harry still ignored him and continued on making treacle tarts, using magic to speed up the work.

“Harry…”

There was warning in the tone Tom used but he still ignored it, speeding up his pace slightly. Then, finally, he put it in the oven, dusting off his hand on his clothes, because he was not bothered to wear an apron or anything.

Just as Tom approached him, Harry looked up and raised an eyebrow at the impatient look he was receiving, “Yes?”

Tom growled and cupped Harry’s chin, “Where were you? That was the first time you ever went out of the vicinity of the wards.”

Harry calmly smiled, not at all bothered by the slight anger that Tom’s eyes conveyed, knowing that the other was merely worried,  “Hogwarts.”

Tom blinked and a frown slowly formed on his face, “Hogwarts? What were you doing in Hogwarts?”

Harry didn’t make a move to pull away, “I talked to the Headmaster,” He flicked Tom’s forehead, “I got in the DADA position.”

Tom’s eyebrows shut up in surprise, “You did?”

Harry nodded patiently, “I did.”

“What for?”

Harry smiled and leaned in to capture Tom’s lips, “You.”

Tom blinked at him, eyes slightly lingering on the lips that kissed him before, “Me?”

“Yes. You wanted to be the Professor, yes? And you already know I don’t care what you do, so, I thought, since you _don’t_ really just want to teach… you could use me…? I mean, it’s fine, I liked teaching before so—”

He was cut off by Tom brushing his lips against his. The moment passed and Tom finally pulled away with something akin to a grin. Tom doesn’t grin, much, but when he does, it was always Harry who brings it out, no matter how small it was.

“Thank you, Harry.”

Harry smiled up at him, “Anything for you, Tom…” _As long as you’re with me._

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

**_We live and we learn to take_ **  
**_One step at a time_ **  
**_There's no need to rush_ **  
**_It's like learning to fly_ **  
**_Or falling in love_ **  
**_It's gonna happen when it's_ **  
**_Supposed to happen and we_ **  
**_Find the reasons why_ **  
**_One step at a time_ **

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

“Good morning, class,” Harry smiled blandly over at his students. Fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindors. Really, what was the Headmaster thinking, putting the snakes and lions in the same room, “Now, I want all of you to put your books away.”

They did as told except for one Gryffindor that reminded him so much of Hermione— _“I’m sorry, Harry, it’s for your own good- our own good you’re the only one_ —he needed to stop thinking of _that_ time. He was here, long before _they_ were. He smiled at the Gryffindor as she raised her hand.

“Yes, Miss….?”

“Abney.”

Harry nodded, “Ms. Abney?”

The girl stood up, “If I might ask, Professor… why put our books away? Isn’t that the point of being in classes?”

Harry just smiled patiently, hiding the grimace that threatened to appear on his face, “That is because Defense Against the Dark Arts is better a practical subject, than theoretical. You would only use that on assignments and maybe some on the creatures labelled as Dark by the Ministry.”

The girl nodded and was about to sit but seemed to remember something and opened her mouth to speak but was beaten by someone else.

“Labelled Dark by the Ministry?” Oh, so it was a Slytherin, now if only he knew the name… “Are you saying that you don’t agree with the Ministry?”

This caused whispers in the Gryffindor side and some curios looks from the Slytherins. Harry sighed, really, why did he even say that? Oh well, what’s done is done.

“I don’t,” Harry walked over to the front, grabbing a small figurine of a werewolf, given to him by Tom, “Hm, this is actually a good place to start out lesson; listen carefully, alright? Now, take this for example,” Harry showed them the figurine and placed it on his desk, “Werewolves are labelled Dark by the Ministry mainly because of their natures as werewolves,” He flicked his wand and the wolf transformed into a man, “Because of this, more werewolves shun their… wolf side. And if you shun one side, you estrange it, it gets out of control.”

“But Professor,” Another Gryffindor piped up and Harry hid his twitch, “Isn’t that precisely why Werewolves are Dark? They attack people.”

Harry hummed, “It may seem that simple but,” With another flick of his wand, the figurine slowly transformed back into a wolf, “Let’s put it like this; there are two dogs, one is beaten and thrown rocks to, the other well taken care of. Would you fault the beaten dog if it attacks and the other cautious?”

“No, but werewolves are different! They are mindless beasts that—”

“What is your name?” Harry sat down on his desk, poking the small figurine with his wand, head tilted to the side as he looked curiously at the tawny haired Gryffindor.

“Lyall Lupin, sir.”

So that’s why he seemed so familiar. He was Remus’ father… stop. They’re not even there!

“Well, Mr. Lupin, I won’t force you to believe me but please bear in mind that Werewolves are just as human as you… that has an Animagus form of a wolf with far delicate needs than normal.”

There was silence in the room as he just stared at the Gryffindor. Yes, he could care less, but he could at least try once. There was little left of his guilt but he could try once.

“Well,” Harry smiled again, “Stand up and move your desks and chairs over to the side. We have an hour left and I won’t waste that for introductions and house rules, just follow those that are repeated in your other classes and we’ll be good.”

The students did as told.

The days went on normally, Harry establishing the fact that he could hardly give a damn if they have issues against him or what he teaches or how he does that. True, it was similar to what Snape used to be like, minus the hostile air and clear bias the man had possessed, but he was getting his points across. Dumbledore doesn’t seem to have an issue with how he teaches so he won’t change unless it was really needed or if Tom says so. He was so much changed since- since _them_.

And with the days passing without much fuss, came the holidays in which Harry stayed in the castle, Tom busy being the ‘Dark Lord’. Yes, he didn’t discourage Tom at all. He wouldn’t, even if he could. Tom was one constant that he was more than willing to do anything just to _keep_ it constant. Because he and Tom had a _Bond_. A bond that can never be broken, even by Death. Tom— _Voldemort_ made sure of that.

Yule passed, and Harry left Hogwarts grounds, with the Headmaster’s permission, to go back to his house, waiting for Tom to come home— _wherever Tom is, is home_ —so that Harry can force the other to celebrate his birthday.

And Tom did, knowing that Harry was back, the wards alerting him to this fact.

“Happy birthday, Tom.”

Tom smiled slightly, “Thank you, Harry.”

Harry grinned at him and pushed a wrapped box into his hands. It was relatively small, the size of Tom’s palm, wrapped in silver and green paper-like cloth. Harry continued to grin as Tom raised an eyebrow. Tom relented and opened the gift, knowing that Harry won’t say anything.

The wrapper slid away to reveal a normal looking brown box. Harry watched amusedly as Tom removed the lid of the box with apprehension written across his handsome face. Shock crossed the reddish-brown eyed man as he realized just what was in the innocent looking box.

“Salazar Slytherin’s locket…” whispered Tom, hands caressing the ornate locket reverently.

Harry chuckled, drawing Tom’s attention, “You like it?”

“I-“ Tom gently put down the present and roughly grabbed Harry, burying his face on the other’s messy hair, “I- Thank you, Harry. I have been searching for this… where did you find it?”

Harry merely grinned but leaned into the rather possessive hold, “I’ll tell you if you promise me you won’t create more Horcruxes beyond this one.”

Harry withheld a sigh as Tom stiffened, thinking that he went out of the line and that Tom would really be angry at him this time, but was surprised when the arms around him tightened and the head on top of his nodded, the point further emphasized by the whispered “Alright.”

In his surprise, the green eyed man’s head snapped up, eyes meeting reddish-brown eyes shining with barely contained mirth.

“What?”

Tom gave a slight chuckle, “I said alright. I’ll do as you say.”

Harry blinked and blinked before grinning happily. He knew Tom needed to stop creating more Horcruxes, lest he be reduced to what he was _before_. He didn’t want to see his Tom end up like the Voldemort _before_.

“Promise it.”

Tom smirked, “I promise that I won’t create anymore Horcruxes after making Salazar Slytherin’s locket into one.”

Harry nodded, still grinning, “That’ll do, just don’t do it here; Dumbledore may visit any time.”

“Of course,” Tom grabbed the locket and put it inside his pocket, “Thank you.”

Harry wrapped his arms around Tom’s waist. They stayed like that for a while before Tom decided to break the silence.

“Why don’t you want to create a Horcrux?”

Harry buried his face on Tom’s shoulder, shaking his head, “You know why I don’t want to, Tom.”

“You are fine with torture but you don’t want to kill directly.”

Harry nodded onto the shoulder, not pulling away. He felt Tom sigh above him and Harry just nuzzled his face into the shoulder, knowing that Tom understood. Tom was the most understanding person Harry had met and had been with. Dark Lord or not, Tom was still his Tom.

“Alright,” Tom ran his fingers on the messy black hair, “Where did you find it, then?”

Tom smiled as Harry pulled his face away, the green eyes sparkling with mischief, knowing that he upset his Harry and more than happy to see the spark back.

 _But_ , thought Tom as Harry pulled him into his room, presenting a cup that apparently belonged to Helga Hufflepuff, _I’ll definitely find a way to keep it like that. Even if that meant finding a way to make Harry immortal; away from Death’s grasp._

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

**_You believe and you doubt_ **  
**_You're confused, you got it all figured out_ **  
**_Everything that you always wished for_ **  
**_Could be yours, should be yours, would be yours_ **  
**_If they only knew_ **

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

Harry was about to leave for Hogwarts when Tom asked if he could come with, even if just at the station. Of course, Harry agreed.

“You don’t have to go back during the holidays.”

It was Tom’s way of saying not to come home on his birthday, “Why?”

“I’ll be busy with something.”

Harry was silent for a moment, staring straight into his Tom’s glamoured red eyes. He knows Tom wasn’t searching for anything to make a new Horcrux with, since the other promised and Tom never breaks his promises, but there was something the other man wasn’t telling him. And that something involved him if Tom was asking Harry not to come home.

Tom sighed and grabbed Harry’s hand and slipped something into his ring finger, murmuring something in a language Harry didn’t hear, and that something—a ring—glowed before adjusting into his smaller finger. Harry scowled as Tom tried tugging it off and nodding satisfactorily when it didn’t budge.

“What?” Harry gasped in surprise as Tom pushed him into the train, “Tom!” But he was too late as the other man disappeared from view.

Harry sighed resignedly, walking off to where the teacher’s compartment was.

Once he was settled into the compartment, Harry looked down and examined the ring Tom had slipped on him unwillingly, and stuck it to him, again, unwillingly. It is a gold ring inset with a black stone engraved with what seemed like a symbol. It was a circle inside a triangle and bisected by a horizontal line.

Harry furrowed his brows as he stared into the symbol. Then his eyes widened as he remembered the ring being one of Tom’s Horcruxes. He was about to freak out when he remembered he was not alone and that the subject of his frustration was probably far away now.

Instead, he sighed and just accepted the fact that Tom _trusted him_ with his Horcrux— _with his soul_. And that made him unbelievably giddy.

But still, there was a niggling feeling in his mind that the symbol looked familiar and that he should know it, but it slipped his grasp whenever he tried thinking of it.

:.~-0-~.:

The school year was finished and Harry used the Floo to go back to his house— _without Tom, it was just a house_ —bidding goodbye to the Headmaster and Fawkes.

Ever since Tom disappeared at the start of the school year, Harry hadn’t heard of the man. The ring was still stuck on his finger—anything he does to remove it was futile, it. Just. Wouldn’t. Budge. But it was from Tom, so it wasn’t like he was trying.

Harry sighed as he trudged up to his room, letting himself fall down on the bed. He laid there for a while, unheeding of anything else. It was a nice day too. But the days weren’t for Harry. He felt so, so alone, and if he didn’t know Tom, he would have felt betrayed, but he just felt depressed and sad. It wasn’t that Tom _left_ , Tom just went away to do something.

He finally moved—more like shift—after what felt like eternity when it was only a few hours, the blackness of the night outside the window justifying it. He started, however, when his leg collided with something, and a dull plop sounded when it fell.

Reluctantly, Harry pulled himself up, sitting on his knees and crawling over the edge and peeking down to see what fell. He cautiously picked it up, noting how it felt so familiar, though he can’t tell what it was because of the wrapping, except that it was some kind of cloth.

Pulling it on his lap when he saw the sign of Tom—the Dark Mark—in the corner of the wrapper. He opened it, hoping that it may give him some clue on what Tom was doing or where he is.

What he saw, however, was an item that he knew so well that he gasped when he saw it. The invisibility cloak. The same cloak that he obtained when he was a first year. How he knew it was the same was something he didn’t give a thought, but he held it up and admired the shimmering cloak.

He heard a faint rustle and turned to look where it was, spotting a piece of parchment. Picking it up, Harry smiled as he read:

_Harry,_

_Treat this as my gift to you._

The smile soon faded when Harry realized that Tom had to have some reason for giving him the cloak. After all, this cloak was a _Potter_ _heirloom_ , and neither he nor Tom was considered Potters.

Why was Tom doing this?

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

**_You wanna show the world, but no one knows your name yet_ **  
**_Wonder when and where and how you're gonna make it_ **  
**_You know you can if you get the chance_ **  
**_In your face as the door keeps slamming_ **  
**_Now you're feeling more and more frustrated_ **  
**_And you're getting all kind of impatient waiting_ **

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

Harry was in the middle of a class, in his fifth year of teaching, when he suddenly found himself being portkeyed into a different place other than Hogwarts. The familiar hook tugging at his navel was the only thing that made it possible for him to know what it is.

He stumbled as he landed, the hand holding him in place the only thing that prevented him from falling down on his arse.

The owner of the hand chuckled, the familiar baritone making Harry’s heart stop and hope to bubble up his chest; something he never had these past few months.

“T-Tom?”

“Hello Harry.”

Harry slowly looked up, unable to stop his gasp when he saw the familiar face grinning at him. Nothing changed at all, not even the hair, the clothes, nor the eyes. The eyes were as red as he last saw them, not a trace of the insanity that he half expected it to have. Then, against his will— _it had always been like that with Tom a few years ago_ —tears welled up in his eyes.

Vaguely, he felt arms hold him, but his mind was failing him in making sense of anything that is happening. Tears continued to flow down his cheeks and he wasn’t even aware what he was saying. He was in shock, hysterical, angry, and happy all at the same time.

Three years. It has been three years since the last time he neither saw nor heard anything from Tom. _His_ Tom.

“Why, why, whywhywhywhywhy—”

Tom let him cry and rage and- and- Harry nearly screamed his lungs out and Tom just stood there and if it weren’t for the guilt Harry could feel from Tom, Harry would have thrown him out. He can never hurt Tom physically. He can, but he won’t.

“I’m sorry, Harry, I’m so, so sorry…”

Harry just stood there, panting, hands gripped so tight that his knuckles were white. He didn’t do anything, and Tom slowly approached, hugging him tightly once he was close enough. Harry let him, sagging in the embrace, but still tense.

“I’m sorry…”

Harry’s fingers unknowingly started fiddling with the ring in his finger—a habit he had developed since Tom went away—and he felt bigger hands holding his. Harry looked up, feeling irritated that he can’t see properly with his puffy eyes.

“You better have a good explanation, Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

Harry finally cracked a smile at Tom’s wince, but still irritated at the other man.

“Right, uhm,” Harry raised an eyebrow with a bit of difficulty, “I’m really sorr—”

“I know already,” Harry grimaced at the hoarse scratchiness of his voice, “so just get on with it.”

“Yes, right,” Tom ran a hand through his hair—a habit he picked up from Harry, “I can’t, at least, not yet. Just- I’ll tell you when it’s over.”

Harry pursed his lips at the answer—or lack thereof—but held back a smile. Tom can never lie to him, at least, not directly.

“Alright,” Tom sighed in relief and Harry smirked, the action a bit weak, “but after that, you _will_ tell me everything.”

Tom nodded solemnly, “Of course.”

Harry stared at him for a while before pulling down Tom’s head and capturing the other’s lips. He knew it was what Tom had been expecting him to do when he suddenly felt dizzy.

“I’m sorry, Harry.” Tom had a guilty and apologetic look when he said this.

That was the only thing that spared Harry from the feeling of deep betrayal before he felt his consciousness leave him.*

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

****_When you can't wait any longer_  
But there's no end in sight  
when you need to find the strength 

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

Harry sat there, in the darkness.

Alone, he was alone. Tom wasn’t there but he could feel him. Harry could feel the deep seated guilt that Tom carries, and that was what had abated the dark feeling of betrayal from creeping up on him. Tom was doing what he thought was right.

So Harry sat there, alone and oblivious to anything else that is happening because there was nothing to keep track of aside from the emotions he could feel from his and Tom’s bond that was preventing him from slipping into the madness this dark abyss inspired within him.

Did Tom even know what he was feeling? Most likely, no. But did Tom care enough to? Yes, Harry could feel Tom’s presence when the other was in the same room as his body.

The problem was, Tom was the only one who could wake him so Tom cannot go into this cage his mind became.

He could hear Tom, but he can’t understand what Tom was saying, so Harry based it from the emotions he can feel coming from Tom. There were times Tom felt angry, exhausted, irritated, triumphant… but Harry could always feel the regret. And just for that, Harry forgave him. Harry would always forgive Tom.

And wasn’t that messed up?

But Harry had long stopped giving a damn.

There was no way of knowing how much time had passed, so Harry just counted the times he could feel Tom. But he had stopped when he reached 538.

That didn’t stop him from wondering just how long it has been since he last saw anything other than this darkness. A day? A week? A month? A year? A decade? A century?

In the end, it didn’t matter, because when he finally, _finally_ felt something other than Tom’s emotions, time didn’t matter.

“Tom.”

It was blanker than what he would have felt before he was locked up in his own mind, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Most of his emotions were not as strong as they had been after that time spent locked up.

“Harry,” There was a relieved smile there, but Harry just blinked and sat up, “I’m very sorry.”

Harry sat there, staring blankly at the red eyed man, “You didn’t change at all. How long was it since you put me in that coma?”

Tom winced but remained where he was, “Fifty years.”

Harry nodded, feeling that faint pull of fear and anger but it slipped his grasp when he tried to feel it, “Why?”

Tom finally made a move and sat down beside him. Harry didn’t react in any way but stare at him. Silence settled over them and Harry looked around, noting that he was in his room and there, on the bedside table, was his wand. He picked it up, easily ignoring the gaze he could feel that bore down on him.

Harry summoned the knife he always hid in his room.

Tom watched in apprehension as Harry gripped the knife tightly.

Harry wondered how pain felt like. It has been a few— _fifty_ years since the last time he felt anything other than emotions. And the knife would satisfy his curiosity. He got so far as slicing at the length of his forearm before the knife was pulled away from his grasp. But Harry shuddered at the pain that exploded from the gash. It wasn’t shallow, but it didn’t reach his bone either.

He felt a hand grip his wrist and looked up curiously at the angry red eyes boring down on him.

“What are you doing?” hissed Tom as his wand was taken from him as well.

“I wanted to feel, Tom.” Harry calmly stared straight to the blazing eyes.

Tom gritted his teeth and whipped out his own wand and healed the bleeding gash. Harry just stared curiously as the skin knit back together. Tom let him.

“Harry…”

Harry looked up and found himself pulled on the man’s lap. Harry didn’t move, soaking in the fact that he was _free_. There was light, he could see anything and not just darkness. Arms wrapped around him in an embrace that he didn’t realize he craved. So Harry did the most logical thing he knew; he leaned into the embrace.

Finally, Harry smiled but it still lacked its normal playful glint, “I’m free.”

The arms tightened around him, “I’m really sorry Harry… I needed to do that… I-”

“All I heard from you are apologies, Tom.”

“I really am sorry.”

Harry stayed silent, wishing that he could handle his emotions better now, but he couldn’t and it would take a while, he knew. But he was there now, and Tom was with him. Tom was always with him. And, in a way, he was relieved that he can barely remember _them_. And that was because of Tom, too.

“Thank you.”

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

****_It's your faith that makes you stronger_  
The only way you get there  
Is one step at a time 

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

Harry was holding Tom’s hand as they walked in Hogsmeade. The people there were jittery and hurriedly made their way around. A lot of the stores were closed, but those that were open were closing already.

When Tom had decided to wake him up, the war had started, but unlike what he remembered, Tom wasn’t insane. Whatever he remembered were a bit fuzzy but the insanity that that Voldemort left an impression. But Tom isn’t insane, and Voldemort isn’t, as well.

“Tom,” Harry looked around at the people hastily doing their errands, “why are we here?”

Tom squeezed his hand, knowing that Harry prefers as much contact as possible, “You’ll have to wait.”

“I always have to wait.”

Tom just sent him a dark smirk.

Sighing, Harry let the man guide him through the small village and vaguely noted that it was the path leading to Hogwarts. Harry didn’t voice out any more questions as Tom led him through the gates of Hogwarts that was supposed to stop them.

But, Harry conceded, Tom might be a professor in Hogwarts for all he knew, and that was next to nothing since he never bothered to check on what was happening and what had happened in the fifty something years he was… indisposed.

Harry followed silently as Tom weaved his way through Hogwarts grounds and entering the Great Hall where, apparently, dinner was being held.

The students’ heads turned as the doors opened, and Harry hid behind the imposing figure of Tom, the other letting him.

“Ah, Tom.”

“Dumbledore.”

Harry stepped back as Tom directed him and watched Tom make his way to the Head table, the students’ head following his progress. The silence, however, was broken when Dumbledore took notice of him.

“Harrison…”

Tilting his head to the side, Harry remained where he was, ignoring the Headmaster and turning a questioning glance over to Tom who was, by now, standing in front of Dumbledore.

“I, Tom Marvolo Riddle Slytherin, Lord of the most Noble and Ancient House of Slytherin, also known as Lord Voldemort, challenge Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in a formal duel for the position of Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

The students gasped and some even went as far as trying to escape from the Hall and the presence of _Lord Voldemort_. Harry, however, blocked their way, using his yet to be removed authority of being the Defense Professor, and locking the doors. It was already fifty years and he still had that authority, funny that he could see the Head table full.

Although, he didn’t know what Tom was doing. If the name Voldemort already made a few students cry in fear, why was he there? And didn’t Dumbledore have more attachments to his name other than Headmaster? Maybe that was because it was for the position of Headmaster only. The Supreme Mugwump doesn’t really hold anything in Hogwarts.

Dumbledore stood up, his eyes still having that annoying twinkle, “I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, do accept Tom Marvolo Riddle Slytherin’s challenge. So mote it be.”

“So mote it be.”

There was a bright flash and he students all found themselves sitting in the corner, the center of the Great Hall clear aside from the two men standing in front of each other. It was Hogwarts’ way of accepting the terms of the challenge.

Dumbledore cast his blue gaze around the hall, “Tom, why are you doing this?”

Tom merely twirled his wand, “We’re at equal and legal grounds, Dumbledore. I challenged you, you accepted; there’s nothing that long white beard of yours need to worry about.”

Dumbledore looked at Harry and Harry shrugged then pointed at Tom.

“What happened to Harrison, Tom? I would never forget the time he disappeared in the middle of the class and never come back again. Until today.”

Tom sent a glance at Harry then smirked at the Headmaster, “Potions are useful things. Now, Dumbledore, I believe we have a duel?”

Dumbledore pursed his lips but conceded.

They stepped back to put some distance between them. Both bowed at the same time and after that was a blur of lights with the occasional explosions. Hogwarts, being as close to sentient as a castle that housed thousands of wizards and witches through the years, had erected a dome to keep the damage between the two who were dueling.

Harry watched, mesmerized, as his magic followed Tom, giving him the semblance of knowing that Tom is still alive.

It felt like eternity before anything else but lights were seen. It seems like Dumbledore finally chose that moment to use his skills in Transfiguration, but the lack of anything to transfigure pushed the old man into conjuring things. Tom watched impassively before making his move. There was no such terms that said Dark Magic and Unforgivables are not allowed.

It took no time at all for Tom to decimate the attacks of Dumbledore. Amusingly enough, Harry noted, Tom won with the simple yet well placed use of _Expelliarmus_. But of course, this is Tom we’re talking about, so at the time that Dumbledore was disoriented with losing his wand, Tom pointed the Dumbledore’s wand to him.

“ _Avada Kedavra._ ”

To most, it seemed like a long while before the green light of the spell hit the Headmaster to the chest, but to Harry, it was only a moment. One single moment that the Headmaster was just there, standing and alive, the next, the once twinkling eyes were now dull and lifeless.

The dome shimmered before disappearing and suddenly, the professors and students alike shouted and screamed, the Slytherins and Harry being the only ones who weren’t reacting outwardly.

Then, for a heart stopping moment, Tom pointed the same wand to Harry.

“ _Cruc-_ “

Harry didn’t know why, but he reacted on instinct, the almost uttered curse remaining incomplete as the wand flew over to the green eyed man, unknowing of what exactly he did.

Harry scowled at the wand in his hand, feeling it practically purring as he felt it creating a stronger bond with him than his Holly wand, then he made his way to Tom, ignoring the pandemonium that was currently happening around them.

“What the fuck was that?”

Tom merely smirked triumphantly at him, just as someone burst into the Hall screaming about the Ministry being taken over.

Before Harry could react, Tom grabbed him, “You’re mine forever, Master of Death.”

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

**_We live and we learn to take_ **  
**_One step at a time_ **  
**_There's no need to rush_ **  
**_It's like learning to fly_ **  
**_Or falling in love_ **  
**_It's gonna happen when it's_ **  
**_Supposed to happen and we_ **  
**_Find the reasons why_ **  
**_One step at a time_ **

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

**Author's Note:**

> End.  
> Uh… I hope it met your expectations…? I know I barely reached mine. The song was randomly picked goddammit! Whatever song was the next one in my shuffled playlist was what I used… actually, it was The Fox… but it didn’t make sense so I waited until I had something with a decent meaning.  
> Song: One Step at a Time — Jordan Sparks  
> Title:  
> Lanificus – Weaving  
> Orsa – Beginning  
> *I debated finishing it there… but thought it was stupid because I’m too attached to MoD!Harry. And someone added Vissi Aldrei in a community of MoD!Harry (In ff.net).
> 
> Funfact though: The songs in this series coincides with Harry's and Tom & Harry's thought/mindset respectively. The song decided the flow of the story.


End file.
